I Can't Control Myself Because I Don't Know How

It's been a long time since I last opened up this page, since I felt that I had anything interesting or worthy to say. I've had great days, and I've had times of struggle, and though I often thought about writing a blog about it, it either seemed like recycled information or complaining. Or maybe I felt that my feelings would be a burden on others, something I feel regularly when I have something bottled up that I'd like to express.

Then recent events crept in on me. At first, I naively thought that maybe things wouldn't be so bad, that they wouldn't have an effect on me. Maybe that was wishful thinking, or some sort of self protection mechanism. Obviously, eventually there was no way to ignore it, as reality settled in and things got worse.

At first shifting to online classes seemed okay, I could learn at my own rate whenever I wanted and could do it all in my pajamas. But it turns out, the lack of structure doesn't sit well with me. I struggle to focus, to want to do any of the work. It's easier and more appealing to scroll social media all day. I'm getting things done, not falling too far behind, but without the physical component of going to class, I feel adrift.

I'm also struggling to take my meds. Everything seems different now, everything IS different now, and for some reason I either forget, or willfully decide not to take them. This is possibly the worst time to do this, as it's more difficult to access help from my care providers. And yet I keep doing it.

The first time I skipped them I fell into a funk pretty quickly in those two days, and when I took them again and felt better, I chastised myself for being such an idiot.

But I did it again.

That time I felt BETTER, which was not the best reenforcement. I felt less angry, more relaxed. But then, that night, I fell apart. I had to call my therapist for backup, something I've never done before, because I started to feel like I couldn't handle my own emotions. Luckily she was able to calm me down quickly. I took my emergency meds and went to bed.

And then I did it again.

Nothing bad or good happened that time, but I'm toeing a dangerous line here, and I can't seem to stop myself. I think one of the only reasons I'm taking them at all is because I'm worried that I might fully collapse and then the people in my life would have to deal with it. I'm apathetic about it on my end.

I wish I had answers for myself, that I could trust myself to reliably take my medicine, but I don't know that I can. Yes, I had a reminder set on my phone. Yes, I could ask my husband no nag me about it, but I think that will make me resentful, and feeling that way toward someone you're quarantined with isn't the best idea I don't think.

All I can really do is what we're all doing; take it one day at a time, hope for the best, and be gentle with myself when I can. My wish is that you're all doing this for yourselves as well.